


Slave Cas- drabbles

by BrandiChampane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, M/M, Master/Slave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandiChampane/pseuds/BrandiChampane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just like the title reads</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

On a Thursday, Dean decides to give in and purchase a slave. He has enough money saved up and after his recent break up he thinks he will benefit from a companion, someone to keep him company. Sam suggested it, he purchased Jess years ago, and even if their relationship started off with Sam owning her, Dean is pretty sure Sam is the one doing all the work now. Sam bought her a fancy ring, purchases new clothes and everything she needs or wants. Dean is not looking for a relationship exactly, just company.  


  
Along the boys that the agency offered was a young man with dark hair and eyes, so blue Dean just had to say yes. He was shy and reclusive, hardly lifting his head to look Dean in the eyes. Dean has heard they are supposed to be submissive, but this man looked so broken and Dean was a soft side for puppy eyes, probably Sam’s fault. So he said yes, signed the papers, payed the agency, and now he has Castiel sitting in his home, stiff as a log. Dean offered him a drink, food, clothes, but Castiel just sat, stared, and waited for Dean to make the decision for him. Thinking about it, Dean wonders if he even speaks.  


  
Dean cooks them both burgers and pushes a can of soda toward the man, he looks over twenty-one, but Dean is still unsure if he should pressure alcohol on him. Instead, him and Castiel drink their pop and eat their burgers, which Castiel seems to like if the way he practically swallows it whole is anything to go by. Dean will have to add hamburger meat to his list of groceries and ask Castiel he enjoys other foods. He wonders if Castiel even knows.  


  
After dinner, Dean shows Castiel his apartment. Nothing too fancy, one floor, two bedrooms, one bathroom. Dean stops to ask Castiel if he wants a bath and turns a shade of red when he starts stripping in front of Dean, mistaking the question for an order. Once he has shed his clothes, Dean turns on the shower and checks the temperature. Sometimes the old pipes will run cold a long time before they heat up. When Dean steps back to let Castiel into the bathtub, that is when he notices the scars. Vertical and horizontal lines across Castiel’s back, some on the backs on his thighs, one good slash across his bottom. This time when Dean goes red it is from anger.  


  
“You’re last owner do this?” He asks, fingertips stroking the scars. Castiel visibly shivers beneath the touch, but does not move away.  


  
He nods.  


  
“You can speak.”  


  
“Yes.” Castiel’s voice is a rough whisper and then he moves away from Dean’s hands and into the spray of the showerhead.  


  
Dean lets Castiel shower while he prepares his room. The sheets need changed and some of Sam’s clothes are on the floor from the last time he spent the night. Dean bundles them into a ball and tosses them into a clothesbasket by the door. Castiel is standing there, shy smile, and eyes cast low. Dean motions for Castiel to come closer, but the man is reluctant, he tugs at the hem of his shirt and switches from foot to foot at the threshold.  


  
“Cas this is gonna be your room, you can come in here.”  


  
Castiel forces one foot in front of the other until he is standing at the foot of the bed. He releases his shirt and begins to feel the fabric of the blanket.  


  
“Nice, right? My mom got me this one for my birthday last year.” He smiles and Castiel does too.  


  
Dean reaches out a hand and holds Castiel’s wrist in his palm, light enough so he can pull away if he wants to. Dean can feel Castiel go still under his touch, but he keep his hand still. He rubs a thumb over Castiel’s palm, a light stroke to tell Castiel that everything is okay. Castiel’s eyes are wide when Dean looks, though.  


  
“Sit down,” Dean instructs and Castiel complies. Dean can feel Castiel how pulse quickens from where he holds his wrist.  


  
“I’m not gonna hurt you. Okay?” He whispers close to Castiel. The man’s eyes are wide, verging on tears almost, so Dean strokes his cheek with his palm, and cups it until Castiel breathes normally again.  


  
“See, not so bad.” He leans in, places a gentle kiss on Castiel’s cheek, and hears the gasp Castiel makes.  


  
“Take your shirt off, lay down.”  


  
“I thought,” Castiel cuts off and complies, aggression in his movements. Dean catches his wrist again as Castiel his jostling his shirt off.  


  
“Hey, we’re not doing anything. Just lie on your stomach and relax.” Castiel pulls his shirt the rest of the way off and complies. He pulls the pillow under his chin and hugs it with both of his arms.  


  
Dean kneels on the bed, beside Castiel and tilts Castiel’s head toward the wall when he tries to look. Dean is slow with his movements, fingers tracing the outlines of Castiel’s most prominent scars. He wonders if he should do this, with Castiel so scared, practically having a panic attack under Dean, but he promises not to go far and pull back if Castiel asks.  


  
After Dean traces the most prominent scars, he starts placing kisses along them, starting from top to bottom. Castiel gasps with each one, as if he is being burned be the touch but stays still. He begins to whimper the lower Dean travels, and his body shakes with a cry when Dean reaches the dip in his spine. Dean presses a firm kiss there, thumb rubbing Castiel’s shoulder blades as a sort of comfort. Castiel does not stop and neither does Dean. He traces a new scar, kiss, kiss, kissing from point to point until he has covered all of the skin there.  


  
Dean reaches for the hem of Castiel’s pajama pants and Castiel curls in on himself, sliding away from Dean on the bed. His eyes are wide and tears are staining his cheeks, so Dean throws his arms up in surrender and slowly slides off the bed. He gets to the edge of it when Castiel speaks.  


  
“Stay. It’s okay, just slow.” Dean studies his face, his eyes still hold the same fear.  


  
“You sure?”  


  
Castiel nods and lowers his head. His fingers trace the edge of his pants, hands shaking only a little. Dean watches as Castiel slides them passed his waist, boxers included. Castiel drops them to the foot of the bed and lays on his stomach again, face buried in the pillow. Dean moves closer again, and runs a palm from the back of Castiel’s neck to his tailbone, retracing the wounds.  


  
“You have to say it, or I can’t.”  


  
“Yes.” Castiel’s voice is muffled by the pillow.  


  
Dean starts slow again. Fingers trace the scars on the back of Castiel’s thighs, followed by his lips. This time Dean can see Castiel’s muscles clench and release with each one. Castiel has stopped crying by the time Dean moves to the second thigh and has kissed the skin, using his lips as permanent bandages. When Dean moves to the next scar, the one straight across Castiel’s bottom, he stiffens and holds his breath with the first press of Dean’s lips. Dean rubs one cheek while he kisses the other, erasing them with his hands. Castiel starts to breathe again.  


  
Slowly, Dean slips a finger between them and gently presses against Castiel’s hole. He can hear Castiel’s sharp intake of breathe and leaves the finger still, he wonders if anyone has taken the time to make him feel good before. He thinks he can make Cas feel good. He spreads Castiel’s cheeks, revealing the pink hole and Castiel shudders, breathe raspy and Dean gives him a chance to say no and to pull back. Castiel spreads his legs a little wider, gives Dean a bit more room to fit between them.  


  
The first touch of Dean’s tongue to his hole makes Castiel cry out and buck against the sheets. Castiel is not hard yet, but he is getting there with each of Dean’s kitten licks against his hole. Dean keeps a slow pace, just enough to make Castiel feel good while he rubs against the blanket, at full hardness now. Castiel dips his spine, curves to press against Dean’s lips and tongue so Dean presses in against the resistance and Castiel lets out another cry. He presses harder against Dean, looking for the friction he is not getting. Dean uses a finger, wet with spit, and presses into Castiel slowly and licks beside it, tongue and finger working in tandem. Castiel whines and bucks into the air.  


  
“Dean,” Dean takes his tongue away only for a moment and Castiel groans at the loss.  


  
“What do you want, Cas?”  


  
“Touch,” is all Castiel breathes out before Dean has his hand wrapped around him.  
He begins licking again, his hand working in time with the motion. A slow build to what Dean knows will be a fulfilling orgasm for Castiel. Castiel moans and presses into Dean’s fist, then back against his tongue, unable to figure out what contact he craves more. Dean presses in a second finger, scissors Castiel until he can slip his tongue passed the rim with ease. Castiel is panting, sweat slicking his back. Dean moves his hand a little quicker, strokes his thumb against the head of Cas’ cock and Castiel moans, nearly screams with the touch. So Dean does it again, and flicks his wrist the way he likes it until Castiel is coming with a grunt, body shaking and collapsing to the bed.  


  
Dean slips his fingers free and pulls off his own shirt, uses it to clean up the mess on Castiel’s stomach. When he is done, he throws the shirt to the side and slides against Castiel. He is still catching his breath when Dean wraps around him and pulls him to his chest. He kisses the back of Castiel’s neck, then his hairline and his shoulders. All the places he can reach. Dean holds Castiel and rubs and shoulder, while one hand trails through his hair, until they are both asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean ties the last restraint to the headboard, and tugs lightly to make sure it is secure. Castiel balls his hands into fists and tests them again, already wanting Dean’s touch again. He arches his back, lifting his torso from the bed and urges Dean to move on, but Dean is taking his time tonight with Castiel, wants to hear him beg.  


  
After the first time, when Dean kissed all his scars and willed his past away, Dean and Castiel began to try new things. First, it was the exploration of each other’s bodies, finding all the ways to make each other moan and writhe on the sheets. That’s when Dean found out that Cas likes it when you tug on his hair a little too rough or hold him down too long. Cas will never say it out loud, but Dean knows by the hitch in his throat and thrust of his hips.  


  
Dean moves closer to Castiel’s torso, where he is still thrusting in the air, silently begging Dean to touch him. Dean does, a gentle brush of his lips over Castiel neck, the flick of his tongue over smooth skin and Castiel exhales shakily in his ear. Dean laps over the skin and places a kiss to it, before sucking a bruise there.  


  
“I bet you’re just hungry for it, huh?” He starts, voice low and rough the way Castiel likes it.  


  
Castiel shuts his eyes and pulls at the restraints, going nowhere. Dean presses a kiss to his collarbone, another to the center of his chest while Castiel tries to stay still for Dean. He waits until Castiel’s breathing has evened out before pressing his lips to one of Castiel’s nipple, tongue barely touching it and Castiel leans into it, wants more.  


  
“Just a little whore for it, aren’t you. Can’t wait to be full of my cock,” Castiel moans and rocks his hips, chest pressed against Dean’s lips.  


  
Dean sucks the nipple, licks around it making Castiel keen. He works the other with a finger, rubbing, then squeezing gently. Castiel moans again and lifts his head to watch Dean work. Dean pulls back and sits on his heels, watching Castiel. His eyes open with the loss of contact and he pulls at the restraints again.  


  
“Dean, don’t stop.” He begs, voice wrecked with need.  


  
“Baby, I’m just getting started.”  


  
Dean reaches across the bed to where he keeps the lube on the nightstand, and then he slicks up two fingers and puts the bottle back in its place. Castiel’s eyes watch Dean and he kneels between Castiel’s spread thighs.  


  
“First, I’m going to open you up nice and slow until you’re screaming for it,” he says, pressing a finger to Castiel’s hole, he feels it twitch beneath his touch.  


  
Castiel gasps when it enters, his hands scrabble for some purchase on pillow cases when Dean presses in to his knuckle.  


  
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I get you all opened up so you can ride my cock.”  


  
Dean fingers him teasingly slow, wants to draw it out like the first time he had Castiel. Before there were soft touches, gentle caresses and now Castiel is so hungry for it. Dean wants to deny him longer, but the way Castiel begs makes his dick so hard he is worried he will come untouched. He slides the second slicked finger in beside the first and thrusts in a little rough, enough to make Castiel squirm and moan.  


  
“You open up so good for me.” He presses a kiss to Castiel’s hipbone.  


  
“Dean, please.”  


  
“Please what?”  


  
“Need more.”  


  
Dean twists the fingers inside Castiel and he groans, toes curling and hands squeezing the fabric like a life preserver. Dean presses in past the knuckle and searches for the spot inside Castiel that will make him scream and beg. He crooks his fingers and knows he has found it when a cry is released from Castiel and he can hear the tug of the ropes against the headboard. Castiel ruts against his fingers and Dean keeps pressing against him.  


  
“Bet you could come from this alone.” Castiel only moans and pushes against Dean’s hand. He presses in harder and Castiel nearly screams a moan, voice raw.  


  
“Yes, Dean, don’t stop.”  


  
Dean doesn’t, he works his wrist while Castiel ruts against his hands and with the way Cas is panting Dean won’t be surprised if he does come from his hand alone.  


  
“Dean need you.”  


  
“Need me to what?” He kisses Castiel’s thigh, still working his fingers.  


  
“Need you to touch me.”  


  
“You sure about that?” Dean asks, thrusting his fingers in again and crooking them against Castiel’s prostate. Castiel cries out and Dean worries he will hurt his wrists with how hard he pulls against the restraints.  


  
Castiel comes in long streaks across his stomach, muscles quivering until he is spent, catching his breath. Dean can see Castiel closing his eyes, already prepared to sleep it off.  


  
“Oh no, we’re just getting started.”


End file.
